Letting Go
by Little Miss AiLy
Summary: ...I dropped to my knees and sobbed as I read the name engraved on the stone: Miroku. How could he let himself die like that, and right after our fight? I never told him how much I loved him.


**Letting Go**

By: Akira Asakura

**Rating:** PG-13 (to be safe)

**Genre: **Romance/ Tragedy

**Summary:**

…I dropped to my knees and sobbed as I read the name engraved on the stone: Miroku… How could he let himself die like that, and right after our fight? I never told him how much I loved him.

**Disclaimer:**

InuYasha does not belong to me.

**A/N:**

Please remember to review after reading, and I'm letting you find out who this is for yourselves. Also note that characters may be OOC slightly, so if you think so, please don't complain too much. This is a **one-shot**.

♥(♥)♥(♥)♥(♥)♥(♥)♥(♥)♥(♥)♥(♥)♥(♥)♥(♥)♥(♥)♥(♥)♥(♥)♥(♥)♥

I remember what had happened, what started this all. I let out a stale chuckle as I remind myself what that jerk did even after admitting he loved me. We'd finally gotten to really talking and he'd told me he loved me, so I believed him, a fool I was. It still makes me feel so angry and pitiful when I remember. That night we'd all been staying at another manor, and as always, that filthy, disgusting, perverted monk had to flirt with every beautiful, young, female servant he laid his eyes on. That betraying, evil, treacherous, little- I can't even describe that freak! I don't even know why I still love him! I lightly sob and brush off the hand of my husband, who is trying to comfort me. He's the general that I'd already once turned down, Kuranosuke Takeda. He still loves me, even though he knows my heart is still succumb to that man. He knows, but I'm not sure if he's fully _aware_. I wish I could give my husband my full devotion, but I can't unbind the control Miroku has over me.

That- that "monk" was particularly chummy with one of the servants. Perhaps it was the many cups of sake that he'd already taken in, but he- he kissed her. He'd barely ever acknowledged me in a loving way beside that proposal of love, and there he was exchanging a kiss with this girl who'd barely been there for a half an hour! I know I did overreact a bit, but I still think it was too much. So I rose quickly and pushed away the girl, and of course, I slapped him, very roughly I might add. The lecher deserved it. And with that I left to my room, or at least I was going to. Once I'd left the dining hall, I heard him muttering, "What's wrong with her?" And then he rose and helped the girl up, apologizing, for _my_ rudeness. It bothered me so much. I couldn't stand it, so I ran, with my Hiraikotsu in hand, to a hot spring we'd passed nearby.

When I reached the pool of water, I finally let out a sob. Just now, I also let out a sob. This must be so much torture for Kura-kun. I cry more thinking of the pain it is for him. Damn it, Miroku what did you do to me? You seduced me as much as that filthy, demoness assassin. Why can't you just stop haunting my mind? I let out another sob. "Sango, I think we should go." He's trying to comfort me, but it can't help. So he helps me up and as we walk away, I lean on his shoulder for support.

When I was lying in that hot spring, I noticed smoke and I saw the source: the manor. I rushed to it, and as I slammed open the door, using my Hiraikotsu, I saw Miroku, with that whorish-demon. She'd tricked him. He was "protecting" her from the flames, and he hadn't noticed she'd distorted into her true form. Her hair was long and silver, her eyes were a deep purple, and pointed ears sprouted. She held him close and soon, her claws had pierced through him. He was gone.

"…Nothing at all."

"Mommy?" Miki, my 2-year-old daughter chirps. "Is Mommy okay, Daddy?"

She wrenches onto his leg, playfully having him drag her back into our home. "Come on, Miki, Mommy need to think about some things now." So Kuranosuke takes her away, managing to sweep her off his leg and then over his shoulders. "Where would you like to go?"

"Hmm…" She thinks slowly, careful of where she chooses. Then she burst out happily. "To the moon!"

"Alright then. Off we go!"

I almost break down into tears knowing that I have to hide my true feeling from my own daughter, and that even though I lover her so much, I can never truly love her father. I feel so much like I'm betraying her. I'm not sure how much longer I can hold this pain in.

I walk out to my garden; the light trickle of the man-made river as it flows calming me. I have so many things, yet I feel so unfulfilled. We killed Naraku. I got my revenge, for both my family and Miroku. After all, the demoness was sent by that wicked, half-demon. His memory makes me cringe and I must calm my urge to get out my Hiraikotsu and run off to fight demons. I'm an adult now, and I'm married with a child and a possible future with more. I can no longer go gallivanting off when I want. I'm supposed to be a responsible mother now. I am a responsible mother now. Oi, who am I kidding? I was thinking of running off to kill demons to blow some steam, that's not responsible. This is too much, why can't we just go back in time, turn it all the way back to my childhood?

Why did you have to do die, you dumb monk? I think I may just go insane. Tears begin to spring again and I remember when they'd first laid out the grave. It haunts me every night how I dropped to my knees and sobbed as I read the name on the grave: Miroku. I remember repeatedly asking, "How could he just let himself die like that, and right after our fight?" But most of all, I pathetically reminisce about how I never told him how much I loved him. I don't' think I can ever get past this. How am I supposed to?

I collapse to my knees again. "Miroku…" I'm sobbing pathetically now. I can't hold it in any longer. "Miroku, why- why'd you die? Damn it, why?"

"Mommy? Are you okay, Mommy?"

I ignore her, my frustration overwhelming me. I can't hold my feelings back any longer. "I love my daughter so much," I say, just audibly, "But I can never love her father as much as I love you, Miroku. And knowing that I don't think I can wait any longer to go on with you…"

"Mommy?"

"Miki, let's go back inside," her father said, coming over her and reaching his arms around the small girl. He tries to remain calm, keeping his indifferent composure, and ignore the cold rush of icy words that dawn a new reality upon him. They are my thoughts and feelings that cause this freezing gust of grief, and not merely for him, but also for my dear, dear Miki. "Mommy needs some more time alone, Miki." The way he said "Mommy" was over-noticeably icy, colder than the words I'd just launched.

"Daddy, who's Miroku?" Tears are starting to overfill her eyes. "I don't like him. He's mean if he's taking Mommy's love away from you."

Her words hit me hard, and it's making me question why I'd lost my sense so much that I'd shout those word. A fire fuels me though, and I throw a fierce glance at her, my own daughter. I hiss, "Never say that again." I know I'm scaring her, but this demon inside me is consuming all I have left. I see her whimper. "Do you hear me?"

She nods.

"What?"

"Yes, Mommy!" She breaks out into a fit of sobbing. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," her father says, intersecting. He steps in front of her, shielding her. "You've lost all control Sango. Stop it. She's your daughter, your own flesh and blood." She whimpers and he whispers to her, "Go back inside. Mommy and Daddy need to talk." She nods feebly and rushes behind the door that was left ajar. He turns back to me, his eyes fierce. "I understand you still love him, and I accept it, but she is you daughter and _she's_ alive, not Miroku. You have her to take care of now, and you can't hold onto him anymore. I respect whatever path you take, but think of her. Miki's still only a child, and she needs a mother." He turns, about to walk to our daughter who's still hiding behind the door.

I regain my composure. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

He turns around, Miki on his shoulder. "Will you accept her apology Miki?"

She climbs off of him and runs to me, holding onto my hand. "It's okay Mommy." She wipes her brown optics and tear-stained cheeks, the mahogany glint of her eyes shining brilliantly. "Just never cry again, please?"

I smile. "Deal." I lift her and hold her close. As of now, she's more precious than that monk and no one call fill his spot, but there's still room for others.


End file.
